


The Last Word

by SnubbingApollo



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:07:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21851917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnubbingApollo/pseuds/SnubbingApollo
Summary: “You’re awake,” a softly accented voice said from his left. He turned to look at its source wincing when the room swayed with the movement. Solas was sat beside him, watching him with concern. “How do you feel?”
Relationships: Dorian Pavus/Solas
Comments: 12
Kudos: 164





	The Last Word

**Author's Note:**

> Back on my rarepair bullshit. Enjoy :D

Dorian stirred, his entire body aching. He tried to move and found his limbs slow to respond and pain spreading outward from his stomach. It was a slow sluggish sort of pain that he recognized as what lingered after a serious wound was magically healed. A sort of body confusion where the flesh still reacted as if the injury was present, slow to catch up to the accelerated healing. He groaned, blinking his eyes open blearily. His vision was slightly blurred and his mind was foggy. What had _happened_?

“You’re awake,” a softly accented voice said from his left. He turned to look at its source wincing when the room swayed with the movement. Solas was sat beside him, watching him with concern. “How do you feel?”

“Like I was skewered on a long sword,” Dorian said, voice hoarse and words slightly slurred. Healing potions, likely. A great deal of them. “That is what happened, yes? I think I remember that.”

“Yes, that’s what happened,” Solas said, not sounding the slightest bit amused by Dorian’s joking tone. There was a sound of dripping water and then a cool cloth was placed on Dorian’s forehead.

“That’s really not necessary,” he murmured. “I’ll be fine as soon as my body catches up. Not that I mind the idea of you playing nursemaid, it’s just I’m sure you’ve more productive things to do than play into my fantasies- how high am I right now?”

Solas gave a soft laugh, shaking his head.

“Likely very,” he said. “Between the potions and the elfroot, I am surprised you are awake already.”

“I have a very strong constitution,” Dorian slurred and Solas huffed another laugh.

“Indeed,” he said, shifting the cloth a little. Dorian gave a soft sigh, closing his eyes and trying to remember what exactly had happened. Bandits, he thought. They’d been setting up camp and been set upon by idiots who hadn’t recognized them as Inquisition. One of them had separated Dorian from the group and managed to get under his defenses and had quite literally run him through. He reached down, running his fingers over his stomach just to the side of his navel and sighed heavily when he felt the scar.

“It’s distinguishing,” Solas said and Dorian gave a soft laugh.

“What, like grey hair? Or a *mole*?” he asked, shaking his head. 

“It is proof that you lived,” Solas said in that ‘I have spoken’ tone of his that brooked no arguments. Dorian sighed and went back to trying to remember. He’d fallen, he knows that. The pain had been _spectacular_. He remembered hearing several shouts and looking up to see the man’s sword poised over his head and regretting that he had no clever last words. How was anyone supposed to think of something witty to say when they were in that much pain anyway? And then there had a been a bright light and heat and then a brief nothing and then Solas’ face. Solas _shouting_ at him. And then at the others, all but barking orders at them. He thought he might have said something at that point but he couldn’t hear himself over the ringing in his ears.

“What did I say to you?” he asked, frowning at the other man. “When you were yelling for potions? I can’t remember.”

Solas paused, looking at him for a moment with very serious eyes. He seemed reluctant to say and Dorian winced.

“That humiliating, was it?” he asked. Lovely. Solas lifted the cloth from his head, dipping it in the water and wringing it out, likely as a pretense for avoiding Dorian’s gaze, the mage thought. There was no way it had dried out so quickly and Dorian’s potion and shock-induced fever couldn’t be so terrible that it would be warm already.

“You asked me not to leave you,” Solas said, voice matter-of-fact and Dorian winced even as the comforting cloth was replaced.

“Oh, for the Maker’s sake,” he groaned. “That’s not why you stayed, is it? How long was I asleep? Solas, really, you know I wouldn’t have held you to whatever you said.” Solas gave a put upon sigh as if Dorian was being completely unreasonable. Which, honestly, was a bit offensive because Dorian was trying very hard to _be_ reasonable and it was very difficult when he was this dizzy, thank you.

“I stayed because I wished to,” Solas told him. “And, yes. Because you asked me to.”

“You really didn’t-”

“Do not tell me again that I could have left you to wake _alone_ exhausted, in shock, and likely too dizzy to stand after having a sword driven nearly all the way through your body,” Solas said his voice coming out surprisingly loud and very nearly _angry_. Dorian blinked rapidly looking up at him in confusion and Solas sighed. “There is nowhere I would rather be and nothing more important to be doing, Da’len.”

Dorian frowned but he didn’t argue. He wasn’t sure where this was coming from. They’d grown less antagonistic over the months, of course. Into something Dorian would consider friends, at least on his side. Enough so that other feelings had started stirring in him. Ridiculous of course, but growing more intense by the day it seemed. But still, this seemed too much for that tentative friendship.

“I didn’t mean to upset you, Solas,” he said softly. Solas took a deep breath, ears flattened close to his head in a sure sign of anger and Dorian winced. Solas was very rarely expressive with his ears. If he was telegraphing with them now he must be well and truly incensed.

“ _You_ have not upset me, Da’len,” he murmured voice still tense.

“I think it’s clear that’s not true,” Dorian said quietly. He was about to continue to tell the man again that he could go but Solas spoke before he could.

“My anger is not for you but whoever managed to convince you that you are worth so little,” he muttered and Dorian blinked rapidly. He gave a shaky laugh.

“Wherever would you get an idea like that?” he asked. “I’m quite fond of myself, I assure you.”

“You act as if you are,” Solas corrected. “Very convincingly. The fact that I fell for that act at the first and may have added to this tendency for self-neglect has been a constant source of vexation for the last several weeks.”

Dorian frowned at him.

“You’re serious,” he said and Solas gave him a look Dorian couldn’t read.

“You think I would mock you with this,” he said flatly. “With _this_.” He motioned vaguely between them and Dorian winced again.

“I’m really not _trying_ to offend you, Solas,” he said quietly. Solas sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, ears flicking irritably. 

“You are my _friend_ Dorian,” Solas said. “I value your company. I value _you_. And I very nearly lost you. I do not _want_ to go anywhere else. I want to sit here and stare at you until I can replace the vision of you covered in your own blood I’ve been seeing behind my eyes for the last twenty-four hours with one of you whole and healthy.”

Dorian stared at him shocked.

“I worried you,” he said softly. 

“ _Yes_ ,” Solas said exasperated. “You worried me. You _terrified_ me. And I am not easily frightened.”

“I’m sorry,” Dorian said and Solas shook his head, reaching out to stroke Dorian’s cheek gently.

“I am not looking for an apology,” he said. “Nor do I need one. I need you to rest and let me care for you.”

Dorian leaned into the gentle touch, swallowing hard. Solas gave a soft sigh, brushing Dorian’s hair out of his eyes.

“Potions make you extremely talkative, Dorian,” he said and Dorian went very still.

“I said _more_?” he asked, dread settling in his stomach. Solas nodded with a sigh.

“Much more. Things, I suspect, you would never have said to me otherwise. I am attempting to respect your privacy and the fact that you were not in your right mind and ignore them, but I am finding that surprisingly difficult,” he admitted, pulling his hand away from Dorian with what seemed like a surprising amount of reluctance.

“What did I _say_?” Dorian asked shakily.

“Many things,” Solas said with a sigh. “That you enjoy debating with me, even though you often feel like you’ve lost. That you enjoy the color of my eyes when I’m irritated, though I will assure they are the same color all the time. That you wished you were less yourself so that I would find you more _acceptable_. That you love me.”

Dorian gave a groan of humiliation, turning with great difficulty until he could bury his face in his pillow.

“I’m so _sorry_ ,” he choked out. He felt Solas’ hand on his shoulder and he couldn’t decide if he wanted to lean into it or shrink away.

“Why?” Solas asked. “Why would you apologize for that, Dorian?”

“You can’t possibly be pleased by this little revelation,” Dorian drawled, still speaking mostly into his pillow.

“By what revelation? That you hold me in such high regard? We all thought you were dying. And your first thought was to ask me to stay with you and tell me you loved me. To make _those_ your last words. Anyone who would not be _honored_ by that is a fool,” Solas said firmly. “Do you think I am a fool, Dorian?”

Dorian turned, giving him an exasperated look.

“You know I don’t,” he said. “But you don’t _return_ any of those feelings.” Solas raised an eyebrow in an expression that could only be called imperious though Dorian had no doubt he would despise the description.

“Do I not?” he asked. “How do you know? Have you bothered to ask or did you merely assume?” Dorian sputtered for a moment in response before making an aggravated noise.

“How are we managing to turn even this into quarrel?” he asked, pinching the bridge of his nose and laughing a little. Solas scoffed, shaking his head.

“We do have a skill for it,” he said softly, but he was smiling as well. “I do, as a matter of fact, return your feelings, Dorian.”

Dorian took a deep breath, turning to face him fully.

“Would it offend you if I suggested this was a reaction to nearly watching me die?” he asked and Solas huffed a bit, shaking his head.

“That is what prompted me to break my stubborn silence,” he said. “But it did not make the emotions appear. I’ve been feeling them for some time.” He reached out again, stroking his thumb along Dorian’s cheekbone.

“You are too far away to reach and I can’t sit up right now,” Dorian murmured. “Come down here and kiss me?” Even now part of him expected to be denied. It didn’t seem _real_. He’d convinced himself for so long-

His thoughts were cut off by the feel of Solas’ lips on his, not ungentle but surprisingly firm. He gasped into the contact wrapping his arms around the elf despite the way it made his shoulders ache. Solas made a noise into the kiss that was very nearly a _growl_ driving a shiver down Dorian’s spine. That was…

Solas pulled away, nipping gently at Dorian’s lower lip as he went. Dorian made a soft noise at the loss, trying to press up and follow him.

“Hold that thought,” Solas murmured. “You still have recovering to do.” Dorian groaned and Solas laughed a little, leaving his chair to climb onto the bed beside the other man. Dorian went still as Solas arranged himself against his side. The elf’s hand came to rest on the new scar and Dorian shivered as he ran his thumb back and forth over it gently as though reassuring himself the wound was truly gone.

“It would take something like me almost dying to get us to admit this,” Dorian murmured with a soft chuckle. Solas hummed against his shoulder.

“So long as you never do it again,” he said firmly. Dorian chuckled, shifting so he could put his arm around Solas.

“But you know how I love to be contrary,” he teased and Solas hushed him.

“Rest, Da’len. Bicker with me later,” he said and Dorian chuckled, letting his eyes close. Perhaps he owed that dead bandit a thank you.


End file.
